


Don't Look Back

by melanie1982



Category: Blue Bloods (TV), incidental characters - Fandom
Genre: Other, both?, getting away with it, hmm, victim or perp?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-21 23:46:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12468680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melanie1982/pseuds/melanie1982
Summary: Nikolina was a .. well, I won't use a euphemism: she was a sex slave, aka a hooker, in the Blue Bloods episode, 'Mercy.'In the episode, her pimp, Kiril, is accused of killing Nikolina's client/boyfriend/would-be savior, Cole. Kiril never confesses to the crime, nor is he allowed a trial in the US; instead, he is deported back to Croatia, where, in the words of one of the show's Immigration officers, there won't be any press - "just a judge and a hangman."Now, we know from the episode that Cole was murdered, and Nikolina claims to have been the witness, too afraid to come forward because of what she feared Kiril would do to her. However, without a confession or proof beyond a reasonable doubt... I'm pretty sure you can guess where this is going.Dead men tell no tales.I don't own any Blue Bloods characters. This is fiction, and I make no money from it.





	Don't Look Back

Croatia, 2009

"Don't look back."

Those were the last words Nikolina's mother had said to her as she boarded the train. From the moment her mother had come home, raving about the jobs available in the US, the so-called 'land of opportunity,' and the agency looking for new staff, Nikolina had been distraught. 

"Mama.. Nothing is as easy as you say. There must be something else; why would rich American families want girls who don't speak English to watch their children, cook their meals, or do their shopping?"

Nikolina had continued to pester Mama with questions and concerns for the entire week leading up to the trip. Finally, the day arrived, and the pair of them stood on the platform beside the train.

"You mustn't worry about me. This is a new life for you, a new world; if the war ends and the economy recovers, perhaps you can come back. Until then.."

Nikolina swallowed hard.

"Be a good girl. Work hard. Now go. Go, before I cry."

Nikolina had boarded the train where her transport contact was waiting, a girl named Anya, barely older than herself. Nikolina didn't like Anya, but Mama saw only the business suit and the manicured nails of a professional working for an international employment agency.

"Don't look back," her mother called after her.

\------------------------------------------------------

NYC, 2011

It had been good advice, Nikolina mused as she nursed her drink. She was in business for herself now, now that Kiril was dead and gone. Croatia didn't offer the "innocent until proven guilty" model of justice, and his deportation had been more than she'd dared to hope for. It was a pity Kiril wouldn't enjoy the same kindnesses in prison that he had shown to her, but a dead man could never get parole. So there was that.

The latest client favored Cole in demeanor, though not in looks. They can't all be beautiful, as Kiril would say - though he meant it in reference to his kept girls. She nodded at the appropriate moments, or made the occasional mieu of feigned interest. What was her plan? To work until her beauty faded? To land a husband, another white knight like Cole (preferably without a wife and children)? Did she have it in her to be like Anya, scouting for nubile 'nannies' and domestic servants in some God-forsaken slum?

Nikolina had gotten away with framing her pimp for murder, the only way she knew to get away from him for good. None of his other charges had ever stuck, but now he was gone. It had hurt, having to use Cole as a sacrifice, but the man wasn't exactly an innocent. His widow and young sons deserved better, she reasoned. Besides, Kiril would have tracked her down and killed them both. There was only one way to truly be free of a man like that: someone had to die.

Nikolina glanced out at the panoramic view afforded by the skyscraper restaurant. The bright lights burned steadily, but if she let her vision blur (though she'd deny any existence of tears), the lights looked ethereal. She could imagine this was any major city in the world, or even another world altogether. What should she do with the future which stretched out before her farther than she could see?

Her client - David, she remembered - smiled at her. There was kindness there; it wasn't a feral leer like most, and it seemed genuine. Homely, but comforting.

"Shall we order dessert?," David asked.

"Of course. Why deny ourselves of any form of pleasure?," she purred. David found her accent charming, her demeanor, soft and yielding, but with a slight edge. He knew what she was, and she knew what he wanted. Why not take advantage?

"Don't look back," she heard her mother say. Nikolina smiled as she perused the menu. She had wiped her tormentor from the face of the earth; she'd convinced two seasoned detectives and an ace prosecutor that she was merely a victim; she'd started life all over again. Within her own mind, she answered Mama:

"I won't."


End file.
